Auld Lang Syne
by Irena K
Summary: TV'verse. A series of disturbing phone calls before the holidays spells trouble for both Harry and Murphy.


Disclaimer: They belong to Jim Butcher, Robert Hewitt Wolfe and the Sci-fi Channel

Feedback: is a girl's best friend. Constructive criticism is, as always, actively encouraged.

Spoilers: The entire series up to 'Second City.'

Notes: Originally written for Yuletide 2007

Rating: PG for violence and language

Special thanks to Ryuutchi for the beta. You rocked.

-

AULD LANG SYNE

-

Twelve days before Christmas, at approximately 8:05 in the morning, Harry's phone rang.

Harry, in the midst of moving from Hare Pose to Lizard, almost didn't answer, but with a groan and the twin pops of his knees reminding him he wasn't as young as he used to be, he got up. He jogged to his desk, stubbed his toe and, hissing back a curse, picked up.

"Hello?"

A pause, then a trembling woman's voice on the other end said, "Dresden?"

Harry frowned, shifting his weight off his sore foot. "Murphy? That you?"

"Dresden, is that-" A bust of static interrupted the next couple seconds before Murphy came back on. "Dammit, where are you?"

"What?" Harry said. "Murph, you called me."

"Can you-" Another static burst and when he next heard Murphy, her voice had dropped into a terrified whisper. "Oh my god."

"Murphy?"

"Oh my-" Three sharp gunshots followed an inhuman roar. Then Murphy screamed and the phone went dead.

"Murphy? Murphy!" Harry tapped the line a couple times to try and re-connect but was met only with the dial tone. He slammed the phone down. "Hell's bells!"

"Harry?" Bob stuck his head out through the wall separating the lab from the main office. "Is something the matter?"

"Murphy's in trouble." Harry didn't even bother putting on socks before slipping into his sneakers and throwing on his jacket. "I need to go."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No – I-I don't know. I've got to run. Just...just don't invite anyone in." And with that, Harry slipped out the door.

Bob rolled his eyes heavenward and waved an insubstantial hand through Harry's desk.

"I don't believe that will be a problem," he said dryly.

&&&

"Kirmani! Kir-" Harry stopped before he ran into one of the civilian clerks, then continued his rush over to the young detective. "Kirmani!"

Kirmani sighed, set down his pen and turned to glare balefully at Harry. "What?"

"Where'd Murphy go?"

"I really don't see how that's any of your business."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, leaving tufts sticking out at crazy angles. "Can we skip this today? Murphy's in trouble."

Kirmani narrowed his eyes and gave Harry that all-too-familiar 'have you taken your medication lately?' peer. "Look, Dresden, we're hip-deep in a bunch of missing kids right now so whatever game you're playing-"

"It's not a game!" A lull in the surrounding chatter let Harry know he'd probably said that just a touch too loud, but he was past caring. "I got a call from her this morning and she's in trouble and I don't have the time to sit around bullshitting with you!"

"What the hell's going on around here?"

Harry jerked back and found Murphy staring at him. Coffee in hand and one eyebrow raised in annoyed disbelief. A far cry from the terrified woman on his phone this morning. Harry had never been so happy to see anyone in his life.

He pulled her into his arms. "You're okay!"

"Um, yeah," Murphy muttered into his t-shirt. "Dresden?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still hugging me."

"Right! Right." He stepped back and tried to act natural. Hard, when his nerves were still frayed to the wire. "I just – when I got that call-"

"What call?"

"From you. A half hour ago."

"Dresden, I didn't call you today."

"Yes, you did."

"I'm really pretty sure I didn't."

"But – huh." Harry attempted to pull himself together in light of this information. He could have been wrong and considering that Murphy was here and intact and rapidly loosing patience with him, that was looking like a good theory right now. He wondered how quickly he could slink out of the station without losing anymore of his dignity. "Okay, so you're fine."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Murphy touched his arm, her face softening. "Are you?"

"Just peachy. Must've been a – a prank of some sort. Sorry about this."

"It's okay."

"Right. I'm, uh, just going to leave now." He did not actually run out the door, but it was close.

Murphy stared at him until he'd disappeared before turning to Kirmani. "What was that about?"

Kirmani shrugged.

&&&

"Are you certain nothing had happened?"

"Yes, yes and just in case, you were wondering, yes." Harry collapsed into his sofa and rubbed his hands over his face. "She was annoyed, maybe, but fine."

Bob crossed his arms, frowning thoughtfully. "And you're absolutely positive it was her voice on the phone."

"Either that or the best imitator I've ever heard." Harry let his head fall back and rolled it over to look directly at Bob. "You think it was a prank?"

"Possibly. But, being overly familiar with your brand of luck, I suspect not."

"Great. So, what was it?"

"I have no idea."

"You're a big help, thanks."

Bob pinched the bridge of his nose. "Believe it or not, Harry, I don't know everything."

"Back to square one, then." Harry sighed. "Maybe it was something from the Nevernever."

Bob nodded. "As likely as anything. The dimensional walls around here are going to be thin for the foreseeable future."

"'Cause of what Mai did, pulling us through to the other side."

"Correct. It could be a bleed-through. Or a psychic imprint. Any number of things, really. We simply don't have enough information right now."

"Fantastic. Guess I've got something to look forward to over the holidays, then."

&&&

Eleven days before Christmas, at 8:05 AM, the phone rang again.

Harry eyed it warily but when it failed to stop ringing through sheer willpower, he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Dresden?"

Harry sighed. "Hi, Murphy."

"Dresden, is that-"

He let the other end of the line repeat itself until Murphy screamed again and disconnected. Harry – rather calmly, he thought, even with the trembling fingers – dialed Murphy's cell phone. It rang three times before she picked up.

"This is Murphy."

"Hey, uh, Murph."

"Dresden?" He heard someone ask a question in the background but couldn't distinguish any words. Murphy gave a muffled reply before saying back into the receiver, "Something up?"

"No, no, everything's, ah, fine over here. How about you?"

"The usual," Murphy said slowly. "Is there a reason you called?"

"No. Yes. Um, I mean – hey, you free tonight?" Harry winced as the words came out of his mouth but there they hung anyway.

"Is this – Dresden, you didn't just ask me out on a date, did you?"

"What? No! No, I just needed a consult, is all." Harry wondered if he banged his head against his desk a few times he might be less awkward.

"Oh," she said, but Harry couldn't get a read on her tone of voice at all. "Well, could it wait? It's just this case right now, with the kids, I've had to put in extra hours, so..."

"No, that's fine. Nothing urgent. I'll, uh, call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Talk to you then."

"Right. Bye."

"Bye."

Harry hung up and tried not to feel useless.

&&&

Ten days before Christmas, Harry didn't pick up the phone as he'd previously been picked by a young woman named Mandy the night before.

&&&

Nine days before Christmas, Harry didn't arrive back home until late in the afternoon, smelling vaguely of sulfer. Mandy had been wonderful. Her half-demonic ex-boyfriend, not as much. Even so, Harry suspected she hadn't appreciated it when he sent lover-boy back where he came from and was already mentally crossing her number out of his phone book.

He'd barely gotten three steps inside when Bob yelled out, "Harry, your infernal contraption has messages!"

Harry sighed and looked at the blinking light on his answering machine. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he rewound the tape and listened.

Murphy asked for help twice more. The electric company informed him he was late with this month's bill. And Mandy told him that while she'd had lovely time, she just didn't think she was ready to get back into another relationship so soon. Although the words she actually used were a lot less polite.

Harry moved to erase the tape and stopped, hand hovering over the delete button. He stayed there for a moment before ejecting the tape instead and popping it into his jacket pocket. He called to Bob that he was going back out, ignored the admonishment that he'd just arrived home, and slipped once more into the cold Chicago air.

Twenty minutes later, he strode up to Murphy's desk and before she could ask what he was even doing there, he said, "You need to hear something."

&&&

When the call cut out for the second time, Murphy stopped the recording. "Okay, that's pretty creepy. No wonder you've been weird lately."

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's just..." Harry waved his hand to encompass the general universe and the perverse pleasure it took in kicking him in the head.

"No, I get it, it's fine." Murphy frowned at the tape deck and drummed her fingers. "Where did you _get_ this?"

"I don't know."

"Is that a 'I don't know that I can tell you' or a 'I really, genuinely don't know?'"

"I really, genuinely don't know." Harry sat in the chair next to her. "I've got some ideas, but I'm not sure you want to hear them."

"I probably don't, but..."

"But?"

Murphy crossed her arms and stayed silent for moment. Her eyes locked on the ground, she spoke deliberately. "That was me on there. Even though I never called you, that was _me_."

"Yes."

"And you wouldn't be here at all if you thought it was someone else."

"Yes."

"Okay. Okay, then." Murphy took a trembling breath, then popped the tape back into her hand. "Guess I knew I'd have to jump down the rabbit hole eventually."

"Murph, if I could've-"

"Yeah," she said, with a tight smile. "I know. Come on."

"Where?"

"I've got an idea."

&&&

Steve Brooks slipped the headphones off his head and stared at Murphy. "Whoa."

"Yeah," she said. "Can you clean it up?"

Steve glanced from her to Harry and back again. "This for real?"

"About as real as it gets. So?"

Steve nodded. "It'll take a couple days. I've got to transfer it to a digital file and the analog is going to leave a lot of hiss, but I can probably isolate the background without too much difficulty."

"Great. Call me as soon as you get anything." She backed up a step, but Steve called out.

"Lieutenant." When she turned, he said, "How far off the clock is this going to be?"

Murphy paused, then said, "How far off you need it to be?"

"They just came out with an eighty gig I-pod with video."

"Steve."

"Fine. Veuve Clicquot, two bottles." At Murphy's raised eyebrow, he grinned. "I've got an anniversary coming up."

She rolled her eyes and pulled on Harry. "Fine. Let's go."

"Thank you, Lieutenant!"

"Shut up, Steve."

&&&

"Don't say you're sorry," Murphy said when Harry opened his mouth again. Despite having nearly a foot on her, Harry practically had to trot to keep apace with her rapid stride.

"No, I was just – you think he'll keep quiet?"

"Who, Steve? Yeah. He can be a nerdy little mercenary, but he's alright. One of our best audio guys."

"That was smart, the audio thing."

"Well, I didn't make it to Lieutenant through sunny personality alone."

"Whoa, I didn't mean-"

"I know, I know, I'm just-" Murphy sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I need some time here."

"I really didn't mean to dump all of this on you."

"Yeah, well." Murphy smiled tightly. "Not like I didn't have a good idea what to expect when I first hired you."

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. "We'll figure this out, Murph. I promise."

"I'll call if I hear anything on my end," she said and slipped out of his grasp.

Harry remained behind as she walked away. "Yeah, me, too."

&&&

Eight days before Christmas, Harry answered the phone in the middle of the first ring. As Murphy demanded to know where he was with increasing frustration, he sprinkled an improvised concoction of dogbane and wormwood on the receiver.

"There's no guarantee this will work, you know," Bob pointed out. "Search spells aren't exactly made to trace phone calls."

"Were you always this negative when you were alive?"

"I was so overwhelmingly positive I believed I could bring the dead back to life. You can see how well that's worked out for me."

"I can't just do nothing, Bob."

"I never thought you would." Bob tilted his head and added, "Although I disapprove of the double negative."

"What are you, the grammar Nazi? A-ha!" The receiver squealed in static protest but a line of orange zipped down the wire toward the phone, enveloping it and then continuing on its way to the jack. "You see that?"

"I do believe there are some satellites that can see it, Harry."

"The power of positive thinking, Bob," Harry said as he grabbed his jacket.

"Yes, I'm sure the magic had nothing to do with it at all."

"Positive. Thinking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a mysterious call to track down."

&&&

All things said and done, it was a lot easier to track footprints with Murphy's sunglasses than a phone signal. For one thing, he kept running into traffic and that was just asking to end up in the hospital at the worst possible time.

For another, it dead-ended at a cell tower.

Which narrowed the field exactly nothing as far as Harry was concerned.

He tried a little bit of spell-casting again, some thaumaturgy, and when that all failed, he kicked the nearest wall, which neither helped nor made him feel better.

When he returned home, frustrated and cold, Bob at least had the decency to not say 'I told you so.'

&&&

The phone rang near seven that night. Harry ate his last bite of a bachelor's meal of pre-packaged lasagna and picked up.

"This is Dresden."

"It's me."

"Hey. Your guy find anything yet?"

"No. Thought I'd check and see if your...whatever worked."

"I cast a tracking spell."

"...Of course you did."

"Welcome to my very strange world."

"Well?"

"I didn't get very far."

"You know what's weird? That actually makes me feel a little better."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess that being a wizard is just as frustrating as being a cop."

"Hell, Murph, I could've told you that years ago."

&&&

Seven days before Christmas, Harry let the machine pick up the daily morning call.

Murphy – the real one – called again that evening. They talked a little bit about her daughter and Harry offered to show her some magic tricks sometime. The sleight-of-hand kind, he clarified, not the wizard sort.

Murphy said she'd think about it.

&&&

Six days before Christmas and unwilling to pick up or listen to yet another recording of a desperate Murphy, Harry disconnected his answering machine and let the call ring through.

The phone didn't stop for a half-hour and only then because he unplugged the jack.

&&&

Five days before Christmas, the phone started ringing despite the fact it was still unplugged.

&&&

Four days before Christmas, Harry gave up on sleeping almost entirely. He managed a light doze for about fifteen minutes at his desk when knocking on his front door jerked him back to awareness. Rubbing a hand over his face, he managed to stumble to the door without injuring himself.

Murphy stood outside, dark circles under her eyes and scowl deeper than usual. "Why the hell weren't you answering your phone?" She blinked, leaned forward and added, "God, you look terrible."

"Not like you should be talking," Harry muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. What's going on?"

Her eyes still narrowed, she said, "Get dressed. Steve's done."

"Okay, so I was able to isolate the treble and base and clean up the background. I didn't get a lot. I mean between the general hiss and the amount of static, you're lucky I was able to find anything." Steve threw a look at Harry. "Why're you even still using a tape machine, man? Digital revolution's been and gone already."

"I'm the old-fashioned sort," Harry said.

"Steve, focus," Murphy said.

"Right, sorry. Anyway, most of what we've got is ambient noise. Not much there. But..." He pressed a button on his computer and a line of sine waves sprang to life as the speaker started calling Harry's name.

"I don't hear-"

Steve held up a finger, silencing him. When the first static broke in, it was still almost overpowering, but very distantly, he could now hear " _Dresden, is that you?...already...basement...dammit, where are you?_"

Steve stopped the recording and said, "Impressed?"

"I'll let you know if you get a better location for me than a basement," Murphy said.

"Oh, ye of little faith." Steve started up the recording again and let it play through until_ Oh my god_. "There. You hear that?" At the blank stares he received, he sighed. "No treble this time." He typed a couple commands and re-started the audio. This time Murphy's voice dropped out entirely, leaving only the static hiss of the background, rising and falling. Even with the main audio cut so drastically, it still came as a surprise when a faint, tinny, but clear voice came through.

"_A reminder to all shoppers: due to the Christmas holiday, we will be closing at six today. Again, a reminder to all shoppers: the mall will close at six today. Thank you and we wish you the best of holidays._"

Steve grinned. "How good am I?"

"Good enough I may buy you that champagne after all," Murphy said. She looked over at Harry. "A shopping mall. On Christmas Eve."

"Yeah, that sounds like loads of fun." Harry dug around in his pocket until he found the crumpled piece of paper he'd scribbled the cell tower location on. "Hey, Steve, there any way you can tell what mall this tower would service?"

Steve blinked. "Yeah, probably. Not my area, but I can find someone to narrow it down." He frowned and said, "Wait. How can it be from Christmas Eve? Is this from last year or something?"

"Or something," Harry said. "Get back to me soon as you can, okay? Murphy's got my number."

"Yeah, but-"

"See you, Steve," Murphy said and followed Harry out of the office.

&&&

Murphy waited until they could slip into an empty interview room before asking, "Was that message from the _future_?"

Harry grimaced. "Probably a psychic ripple of some sort. They can happen when something from my side of the fence goes a little haywire."

"But it's from the future."

"Yeah."

"Seriously."

"Seriously."

Murphy then did the last thing he expected.

She laughed.

"Um," he said. "Okay."

"No, it's-" She interrupted herself with another giggle before getting back under control. "Oh god, I've been so worried about this whole thing and now? All I have to do is avoid the _mall_?"

"It's not usually that simple."

"Harry, have you ever been to a mall on Christmas Eve?"

"No."

"Then let me be the first to tell you: you couldn't pay me to get within a hundred miles of one, even if I weren't getting messages from myself in the future." She shook her head. "I think we just solved out own problem."

"You really think it's that easy?"

"Avoiding the mall for the next few days? Yeah, it pretty much is."

"Murph, you sure?"

She shook her head, gave him an amused grin and patted his shoulder. "Go home, Dresden. Get some rest. I don't think you'll have to worry about any more phone calls."

&&&

Three days before Christmas, Harry had plugged back in his phone and didn't even notice the time when he picked up.

"This is Dresden."

"Dresden?"

His hand tightened around the receiver. "Oh no."

"Dresden, is that-"

The phone shattered on impact when it hit the wall. Five minutes later, Harry stood at the pay phone up the block.

"Lieutenant Murphy speaking."

"Hey, it's me," Harry said. "We've run into a slight hitch."

&&&

Murphy arrived at his apartment promptly at six-thirty that evening. Her good mood from the day before might as well have never existed.

"So," she said. "I'm not going to lie. This is really starting to suck."

"Yeah." He took her coat and hung it on the rack he kept in the corner of his sitting room. "I'm sorry. I mean, I thought it might have been a causality thing, but with you being so certain, I thought if anyone could get out of a pre-determined destiny loop, it'd probably be you, so I didn't say anything and-"

She held up a hand. "Enough." Harry's jaw clicked shut and Murphy sat on his couch. She hung her head in her hands for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking up. "I really thought I was okay with this. I thought _knowing_ was better than – than the constant uncertainty."

"I know."

"Is it because of you? Is your weirdness just seeping into my life through osmosis or is it, I don't know, bad luck or something?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

Harry sighed. "It's probably a little of both."

"Well, shit." Murphy slumped back, looking defeated. "That's it, then."

"Hey, I didn't say that."

"Really? And just how _do_ you get out of some sort of causality whatever-it-was?"

Harry bit his lip. He thought for a moment, studying the floor with an almost artistic intensity before meeting her in the eye and saying, "It's probably about time you met Bob."

&&&

"Connie Murphy, Hrothbert of Bainbridge. Bob, meet Murphy."

Bob sketched a formal little bow. "A pleasure."

Murphy did not entirely look like a gasping fish, but not for lack of trying. "This is a – you're a -"

"Ghost, yeah."

"I prefer the term 'living impaired,' if you don't mind."

"A ghost," Murphy said. "A real, honest-to-god ghost."

"Murph, you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just going to – um." She leaned over between her knees and started taking deep, measured breaths. Harry sat beside her and rubbed her back.

"A little much to take in, huh?"

She held up her thumb and forefinger an inch apart to illustrate her agreement.

Bob rolled his eyes. "I think she took it better the first time."

That got Murphy looking back up again. "First time?"

"Not _you_ you," Harry said. "Dragon disguised as you. It's kind of a long story."

"_Dragon_?"

"You know what, it's not important. Forget I said anything. What is important is Bob here is going to be serving as your decoy."

"He is?" Murphy said.

"I am?" Bob said.

"Yes and yes," Harry said to both of them. "Bob's got a trick he can do." When Bob continued to stare at him with an incredulous expression, Harry jerked his head in Murphy's direction. "Come on. Show her."

Bob crossed his arms. "I've said it before, Harry: I am not a trained poodle. And I don't do tricks on command."

"What _trick_?" Murphy said, standing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look, there's this – no, okay, never mind. Bob's going to be with you tomorrow."

"Oh, am I."

"Yes," Harry said, staring down the shorter ghost. "You are. I need you to look after Murphy."

"Excuse me? Look after?" Now Murphy was glaring at him, too, which he thought was just a touch unwarranted. "First, what makes you think you get to make this decision for me? And second, how much use is a guy who can't touch anything going to be? No offense," she offered to Bob.

"None taken. And the lady does raise a good point, Harry. I'm sure she's quite capable of defending herself."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Murphy, I know that, okay? That's not the point."

"Then what is the point? You deciding what's best for me again?"

"That's unfair."

"Really? Because I'm starting to see a pattern here."

"He does have a bit of chivalrous streak," Bob told Murphy.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'chauvinistic.'"

"So, what the hell else am I supposed to do?!"

Judging by the looks he received, he was having volume control problems again. Harry hung his head in his hands and pretended he didn't want to cry.

"I'm out of ideas," he said quietly.

He felt the cushion sink slightly as Murphy sat next to him. She stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "Is it really that bad?"

Harry laughed a little and leaned back, meeting her brown eyes with his own. "It's kind of always this bad."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Murphy sighed, running a hand through her hair and frowning at the tangles she found there. "So, why Bob?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, this bodyguard thing. Why him and not you?"

Bob raised an eyebrow at the question but let Harry answer. "I need to put some things together physically. I'm not sure what we're dealing with, so I want to stock up."

"And Bob?"

"If he's with you, I can track you, just in case Steve doesn't get back to me."

"Always be prepared."

"Yeah."

"You're a regular boy scout, there."

"You know, I can totally picture you as a Brownie."

"I wasn't."

"Little Costanza Murphy in pigtails, selling cookies."

"Don't make me hurt you, Dresden."

&&&

On Christmas Eve, the only reason the phone didn't ring was that it still lay on pieces at the bottom of the dumpster at the end of the block.

Not that mattered. Harry didn't sleep anyway.

&&&

When Bob abruptly manifested in the passenger seat of her car, Murphy almost drove off the road.

"Don't _do_ that!" she said.

"I apologize," Bob said. "But I'm afraid it was getting unaccountably cramped in that bag of yours."

"You don't have a body. You can't cramp up."

"That doesn't mean I like small, dark spaces."

"Great. I get the one ghost with claustrophobia."

Bob sniffed. "There's no need to be snippy."

Murphy sighed and wondered just when her life had turned into an episode of _The Twilight Zone_. She glanced at Bob. He sat stiffly in the seat next to her and appeared intent on brushing imaginary dust off his impeccably pressed jacket.

"You know, if you're intangible, how come you aren't floating right out of the car?" she asked.

"Honestly, I try not to think about it too deeply. Physics and magic rarely mix well." Bob paused, then added somewhat cautiously, "Regardless, I'm tied to my skull anyway. Whither it goes, I must follow."

"It's a little sad that carrying around that skull is by far the least disturbing aspect of my week."

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

&&&

When Harry stuck his head inside the audio department, he caught Steve pouring a substance of unknown origins from a flask into a coffee cup.

"I hope you at least have something with caffeine in there."

Steve jerked and spilled a thimbleful on his hand. Shaking it out, he said, "C'mon, man. It's Christmas."

"And I'm sure Lieutenant Murphy would be happy to share the joy."

"You just here to bust my balls or what?"

"Those malls. You find any of them?"

"Yeah, yeah." Steve rummaged through a pile of papers for a moment before handing over a hand-written list that looked like it'd already celebrated both Christmas and New Year's. Maybe even Kwanzaa and Hanukkah, too. "There's a couple places on there. It help at all?"

Harry scanned the names. "Narrows it down. And I need to borrow your cell phone."

"What? No!" In response, Harry merely pointed at the whiskey flask. Steve sighed and unclipped his phone. "Yours break or something?"

"I don't own one."

Steve boggled. "You're one strange human being."

"I get that a lot. When it breaks, I'll buy you a new one."

"Don't you mean 'if?'"

"Sure, why not? Oh, and Steve?" Harry paused at the door. "Don't drink on the job anymore. Murphy's got enough on her plate and I don't want to have to clean up your mess."

Steve turned to demand just what it was Harry thought he could do, but the other man was already gone.

&&&

"So, is every ghost tied to something?" Murphy asked.

Bob tilted his head. "I don't follow."

"Like with the skull. Is every ghost like that? Forced to move with a body part or an object? Or are you special?"

Bob stayed silent for so long, Murphy wondered if she'd insulted him or made some sort of supernatural i faux pas /i . And when he spoke, his intonation was strangely flat. "No, I have what you might call...special circumstances."

"Oh. Should I even ask?"

"No." And then, to her surprise, he added, "Not yet."

"Fair enough."

Her cell phone rang before the silence could become awkward.

"This is Murphy."

Kirmani's voice crackled on the other end. "Our perp got another kid."

"Hell. Where?"

When he told her, she realized she'd been expecting it. With sinking dread, she gave him her ETA and hung up.

"Lieutenant?" Bob said.

Murphy pulled into the left lane to make a U-turn. "Guess where we're going."

"Oh, dear."

"Yeah. Pretty much."

&&&

Harry tended to avoid mobile phones when possible since they lasted even less time around him than most electronics. But desperate times and all that.

Murphy picked up on the second ring. "Steve?"

"No, it's me."

"What are you doing with – no, wait, forget it. Not important. We've got a problem."

"How big a problem?"

"I just got called into the Atrium. Another abducted kid."

Harry glanced at his mall list and sighed. "That's the one."

"Still no clue what this thing is?"

"Not really."

"Great. Wait, Bob's yelling at me." A muffled conversation followed, before Murphy said, "Hang on. I'm putting you on speaker."

Brief scuffling commenced until Bob's overly loud voice came over the line. "HELLO? HARRY, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"Green Bay can hear you, Bob. Dial it down."

"I'm sorry, I've never done this before. This is rather exciting for me."

"We're happy for you. What's going on?"

"The missing children. They're connected."

Harry sighed. "I miss the days when a coincidence was just a coincidence."

"Don't we all. Harry, I'm almost positive it's one of the Sidhe."

"You're kidding."

"I only wish I were. But between the abductions and the backwards calls you've received, it has their grubby prints all over it."

"So Mai's little trick allowed them slip through."

"Unfortunately, it looks like it did."

"Excuse me," Murphy broke in. "But what's a Sidhe?"

"The Fae," Bob answered. "The Fair Folk."

"The – wait, are you saying a _fairy_ is doing all of this? Like Tinkerbell?"

Harry sighed. "They're not like Disney flicks, Murph. They're monsters. Very old-school and very dangerous."

"Yeah, but – fairies?"

"Lieutenant, I assure you, despite the watered down stories the twentieth century chose to inflict upon you, these are ancient creatures. And for the most part they dislike humans a great deal."

"Great. So, what do we do?"

"I don't suppose you could convince someone else to meet your team for this case," Harry said.

"No."

"Figured. Just whatever you do, don't go into that basement. Wait 'til I get there."

"Your plan sucks."

"You got better one?"

"Sadly, no."

"I'll see you, then."

&&&

Murphy met her men on the first shopping level. Although the uniforms had all but shut down the building – much to the last-minute shoppers' dismay – the muzak still serenaded them with an instrumental version of 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.' While some gave the large shoulder bag she carried an odd look, a withering glare warded off any brave enough to try and question her on it.

She spoke briefly with the first officer on the scene, called in by mall security after their tapes revealed a figure – indistinct, of course – take off with the boy. She questioned the mother and felt like a sham when she'd already been told exactly what it was that'd taken her kid but adhering to protocol anyway. She ordered a general canvas of the area, made sure the barricade around the mall was secure, turned around and said, "Where's Kirmani?"

"Thought you knew," McKenzie said. "He took a couple guys downstairs to take a look around."

Murphy did not curse or in anyway change her expression when she said, "Can you show me how to get down there?"

McKenzie took her into the docking area for truck deliveries, opened the emergency door next to it and directed her down. She thanked him politely and as soon as she was alone, opened up her bag to reveal the human skull lying in it.

"Bob," she said.

Black mist seeped out to take on Bob's form. He did not look pleased.

"I do believe you were told to stay out of the basement."

"So I can leave good men to face something they're not ready for? I don't think so."

"You're very stubborn."

"How else do you think I put up with Dresden? Now, how do I kill Tinkerbell?"

&&&

Harry did not believe in karma. This was not so much a philosophical decision as self-preservation; after all, considering his life, and the mistakes he'd made during it, he didn't want to contemplate the idea of some sort of universal payback.

However, if he did believe in any of it, the traffic on Christmas Eve would have suggested he'd been one bad guy in a previous life.

By the time he arrived at the mall, there was no sign of Murphy and the officer at the police perimeter was either very dedicated to his job or had been warned about nuts calling themselves Dresden before. In an act that probably didn't help his karmic balance, he arranged a minor distraction in the form of a small fire twenty yards over. It was, he reassured himself as the gaggle of cops ran off and he slipped inside, only a very small fire that would extinguish itself in approximately ten minutes and he therefore shouldn't be feeling all that guilty.

It should also be noted that Harry's ability to justify morally ambiguous acts in the name expediency had been finely honed over the years.

When McKenzie approached him – coordinating the officers inside and trying to find out what the fuss outside was over the radio – Harry already had his credentials out.

"Murphy called me in," he said.

McKenzie looked like he wanted to argue that, but another panicked call from his radio was a more pressing concern. Instead he waved Harry on and said, "She went downstairs. Try not to touch anything."

"Of course she did," Harry muttered. "Why listen to me? Not like I know what I'm talking about."

He dug around in his messenger bag until he found a small glass skull. Gripping it in his fist, he concentrated on Bob, visualizing the ghost's skull. The glass slowly grew hotter until, in a near blistering burst of red light and heat, he got a ping on their location.

Yeah. This was going to be bad.

He pulled out his drumstick wand and Steve's cell, then took off for the docking bays.

&&&

"'A little uncomfortable,' he said," Murphy said to herself. "Ghost wins the understatement of the year award."

Still shaking out the arm Bob had phased through, Murphy hugged the cement wall as she approached the corner of the boiler room. Despite the cold winter had brought to Chicago, the basement was uncomfortably hot and bewilderingly large. No wonder Kirmani thought someone could have escaped down here. If she hadn't known better by now, she would have thought the same thing.

She re-gripped her gun and lead around the corner with it. When the corridor proved empty, she let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Walking forward, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with one jacket sleeve, trying to keep her eyes clear. No way did she die because she couldn't see where she was going.

A bang to her left nearly made her jump, but she brought her gun immediately to bear toward the noise. When Kirmani appeared, she almost shot him out of sheer annoyance.

"Jeez, Murphy, it's just me."

She lowered her weapon. "Kirmani."

"You okay? You're looking kind of pale."

"Fine." She took a deep breath and straightened. "I need you back upstairs."

The younger detective frowned. "You sure? We haven't cleared-"

"Don't make me order you, Sid."

Kirmani stiffened, expression hardening. "Thought you weren't going to pull rank on me anymore."

"Fine," Murphy said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "As a favor. It's Christmas Eve, I've got missing kids, a daughter stuck with my ex and I just need you upstairs right now, okay?"

"Yeah, alright." Kirmani took a step back, paused and said, "You sure you're okay?"

Murphy tried to smile but didn't succeed all that well. "It's been a rough couple days, but I'm fine."

Kirmani looked like he wanted to argue but just nodded and walked away instead. Her partner and men out of danger, Murphy slumped against the wall.

She wondered how Harry managed to do this for a living. No wonder he constantly looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

The ring of her cell phone almost gave her a heart attack. Cursing both at her jumpiness and the stupidity of leaving the ring on, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the caller ID.

"Dresden?"

The answer came back in a series of static consonants. She pressed the phone in closer, but that didn't help the volume much. "Dresden, is that you?"

She heard something that sounded like it might have been a question. She decided to go ahead and give what information she could. "Listen, I'm already in the basement, about dozen yards to the left of the main door. Just keep following the yellow pipeline."

Another squawk of protest and she heard, "...stay...I'm in..." before it dropped again.

"Dammit," she muttered, then louder, "_Where_ are you?" When no answer came, she asked, "Can you even hear me?"

The phone remained stubbornly silent. She was just debating the merits of throttling it when a growl interrupted her. Feeling like a doomed fool, she turned.

"Oh my god."

&&&

"Murphy? Can you hear me? Murphy!"

Three gunshots and scream answered him. The phone then promptly died with an electric whine and spark of blue magic.

Running through every curse he knew and making up a few more as he went, Harry took off at a dead sprint. Two lefts, a vague sense of Bob's skull to the right and he skidded to a halt at another junction. His heart dropped.

The thing that stood in front of him was human only in the sense that it had two arms, two legs and stood upright. But the face was a bloody mass of stripped flesh and the hulking figure stood so high its head almost brushed the ceiling. When it caught sight of Harry, it peeled back its lips to reveal a mouth full of far too many teeth, still red from its last meal.

Harry didn't hesitate. He called up a fire spell and channeled as much energy as possible through his wand and straight on to the thing's chest. It flew backwards hard enough to hit the back wall and crack the cement.

Harry immediately ran forward, pressing the advantage. He pushed all the rage he could into his magic, reaching for wind and fire and anything else that would follow his call, keeping the thought of Murphy front and center. Because he couldn't save her and that left vengeance and that was the only thing that was going to give him enough power to stop this.

The wand finally gave out when he was a yard or two away, the smaller weapon unable to handle the charge he'd been maintaining. It didn't matter. He threw the twisted, smoking piece of wood aside and reached back into his bag, pulling out a glass jar full of thin metal shavings.

He stopped a few feet away, allowed himself to relish the moment. It wasn't going to bring Murphy back, wasn't going to save all those kids, but it was a start.

Unfortunately, the monster had other ideas.

It seized his leg, pulling forward. Harry landed on his back, bad enough to knock the wind out of him and the jar out of his hand. The monster reared back, leaving Harry just enough room to bring his shield bracelet up before his face was torn off by the thing's claws. Even through the shield, he could feel the force of the blow, feel his will buckle. He'd expended too much too quickly and now it was only matter of time before the monster broke through. He was going to die in a mall on Christmas Eve. He tried not to find that a little funny.

Then, quite unexpectedly, the karma he didn't believe in kicked back into high gear.

A gunshot heralded a bullet to the monster's shoulder. It shrieked and pulled back, but was hit twice more, deadly accurate shots to the head and heart. Harry scrambled away and turned.

Murphy stood behind him. Her jacket was torn and bloodied, she had an abrasion on her cheek and wide, dilated eyes, but she was _alive_.

As she continued to empty her clip, she said, quite calmly, "I'm about to run out of bullets here, Dresden. You might want to do something."

Harry skirted back, allowing her an unobstructed view and scrambled for his abandoned jar. He unscrewed the top just as he heard the dry clicks of Murphy's gun on an empty chamber. When he looked back up, the monster was already staggering to its feet again, but before it could get further he tossed the entire contents of the jar at its head.

There was a pause.

Then the monster screamed.

The iron, harmless to humans but deadly to the Sidhe, started to burn into the monster's face with sizzling, crackling efficiency. It scratched at itself, trying to dig out the metal with its claws as its screams became wet and gurgling. Murphy turned and Harry joined her, standing with one arm around her shoulder and keeping her close. They waited until silence finally descended into the room once more before looking.

There wasn't much left. A couple of misshapen bones sat in a foul-smelling, bloody but ultimately harmless puddle. And standing next to it, examining it with clinical detachment, was a second Murphy.

"You know, I do believe that was a Tommy Rawhead," she said with Murphy's voice but Bob's inflection. "Great, nasty beasts, difficult to kill. Well done, Harry."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry actually felt himself relax. "You had me worried when Murphy screamed."

The Murphy in his arms snorted and the fake Murphy looked vaguely embarrassed.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid that was me." At Harry's expression, she shrugged. "I was the decoy, remember? Nothing quite so distracting at the right moment as a scream in a Sidhe's ear." Her figure rippled and was replaced by Bob's normal silver-haired form. He adjusted his sleeves back over the ever-present manacles and added, "I think it was some of my best work, personally."

Murphy sighed, leaning against Harry more out of exhaustion than any sought comfort. "This is the worst Christmas I've ever had."

"Sorry," Harry said.

"And you do this all the time, don't you?"

"Well, not exactly like this, but yeah. More than I like."

Bob rolled his eyes. "Oh please, don't let's come over all maudlin so soon. I haven't even been able to show off significantly yet."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about?"

The ghost smiled.

&&&

"You see, in lore, Tommy Rawhead ate the children it took. But, quite lucky for us, it was never specified exactly _when_ that was."

Murphy listened with half an ear as Bob rattled on and Harry muttered what sounded like an incantation over the locked janitorial closet. A spark of something that wasn't electricity leaped from his hand to the lock and the door creaked open.

And for the first time since this whole mess began, Murphy thought she might cry when the dirtied, scared, _living_ faces of a dozen children stared back at her.

&&&

Six days after Christmas, a scant few minutes before midnight, Harry Dresden opened the door to the roof of his building and allowed Connie Murphy to step through.

She took in the scene with a critical eye. Two deck chairs with plenty of blankets piled up next to them. A small table with a bottle of champagne, two plastic glasses and Bob's skull sitting atop it. Two gas lanterns, lit and hanging from short metal stands, giving everything a soft, cheery glow.

She blinked. "What's this?"

Harry grinned. "The best view in the city. Come on."

She followed him out and graciously sat in the chair he pulled out for her, figuring she could tease him later about his old-fashioned mannerisms. As she tucked a blanket thankfully around her legs and Harry opened the champagne, Bob seeped out of his skull.

"Oh," he said. "This again. Well, I suppose I should be thankful you actually have company this time."

Murphy glanced at Harry. "This time?"

Harry coughed, shuffled his feet and said, "Um, well, been a little...look, it's fine. Hazard of a holiday without a family."

Murphy, who'd never had that problem, tried to cover up how utterly sad that was by waving her cup at Harry and demanding he pour for her first. He seemed grateful for the distraction, although still worried when he asked, "You sure it's okay you aren't with your daughter for New Year's?"

"She's nine, Dresden. New Year's for her is watching _The Little Mermaid_ for the hundredth time and falling asleep before ten. My mom's over there in case anything happens, so don't worry about it."

"Sure, okay. Right."

He sat down in the opposite chair and settled into silence. Murphy took an experimental sip of her drink and decided the champagne was terrible, but that was also an unavoidable New Year's tradition. She used the liquid courage to ask, "So, have you had any more problems with those, um, things?"

"Things?"

"You know. The, uh, fairies." She still felt like an idiot when saying it, but that was probably something she was going to have to get used to.

"Oh. Not much. But we'll probably be getting more incursions. Once you open a door like that, it's hard to close it all the way again."

"Are they all as bad as that rawhead thing?"

"No, a lot are more annoyances than dangers." He paused, grimaced, then said with some reluctance, "Some are much worse."

"Oh."

"Would – would you rather have not known?"

There was another question hidden in there and Murphy had to actually think about it. Life without Harry Dresden, without wizards and magic and ugly monsters lurking in the dark, was simpler. But it wasn't any safer. Monsters with human faces still ran free and she'd been fighting against them long enough to know that the truth would always be her first and best weapon.

"No," she said. "I'd rather know."

Harry looked strangely happy at the answer and settled back into his chair. "Okay."

"Good lord, are the two of you going to be like this the rest of the evening?" Bob said. "The subtleties and insecurities of your conversation are enough to drive even a saint to heavy drinking."

"You don't like it, you can always go back into your skull," Harry said.

"And miss out on watching the two of you metaphorically tip-toe around each other for the rest of the evening? I have to get my entertainment somehow." He looked back out to the city and added, "Besides, I've always liked the fireworks."

"Fireworks?" Murphy said.

And, as if on cue (or was that by magic?), the first dazzling aerial display burst out above them.

She smiled. "Oh my god. Is that the city's show?"

Harry grinned. "Told you it was a hell of a view."

"Wow. I just – wow." She looked directly at Harry. "Thank you. This is incredible."

He held up his glass. "Happy New Year's, Murphy."

She clinked her own against it.

"You, too. Cheers."

They sat back in comfortable silence, a tableau of three staring up at the night sky as it showered them with bright, gorgeous color and the old year gave way to new.

FIN


End file.
